


Sherlock Wears His Dress

by SoManyFandoms



Series: Sherlock's Dress [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 23:11:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14146680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoManyFandoms/pseuds/SoManyFandoms
Summary: John gets his first look at the dress.





	Sherlock Wears His Dress

**Author's Note:**

  * For [slipkid (LJ)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=slipkid+%28LJ%29).



The ring of the doorbell had Sherlock out of his chair faster then John had ever seen him move, if John had of been there to see it. He clattered down the stairs and jumped the last two, landing with a thump at the bottom, flinging open the front door and scaring both poor Ms Hudson and the postwoman, Ms Hudson having come out to see what the racket was, and the postwoman suddenly being met at the door by a man dressed in pyjamas and dressing gown, hair askew and eyes alight. 

She got a further shock (which really, the eyes gave away), when Sherlock grabbed the clipboard, scribbled his signature, exchanged clipboard for parcel, and slammed the door. Ms Hudson's shriek could be heard as Sherlock brushed past her like a cat unseen and ran up the stairs. The flat door slammed as well and the postwoman regained her breath before continuing on her way.

“Sherlock! Don't you ever do that again! You scared the daylights out of me, I thought you were being robbed!”

Ms Hudson, knowing the futility of ascending the stairs when Sherlock got that look in his eyes, told him off from the ground floor, which Sherlock ignored, having bound into his bedroom and closed the door. It had arrived!

Sherlock tore open the parcel like a kid on Christmas morning, throwing aside the receipt from Pull&Bear thanking him for his business in favour of the item the receipt mentioned. Holding it up in front of him to be able to look at it better, he smiled widely and started taking off his clothes.

***

Tapping away at his blog the next morning in the living room, John didn't raise his head when he greeted Sherlock as Sherlock wandered past to the kitchen. Then his head snapped up. Turning to see what he had seen out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't speak for a few moments.

“What are you wearing?”

“Hmm?” Sherlock wandered around the kitchen, putting the kettle on to boil and pulling a packet of chocolate digestives out of the cupboard next to the mugs.

“What are you wearing?”

“This?” Sherlock turned around, biscuit packet in hand. He was dressed in his normal garb of trousers, socks, and shoes, but in place of the white button down shirt he wore a white skivvy, the material tucked into his trousers to keep it tight. Over the top of the skivvy Sherlock was wearing a black dress with white polkadots, and on the dress were the words 'I'm in love with a blogger', with a big red love heart behind the words. John's jaw almost dropped.

“You're wearing a dress!”

“Great observational skills.”

“You're in love with a...are you in love with me?”

“You are part of my work, and I am married to my work.” John blinked then decided not to comment, especially with Sherlock smiling at him, watching as his mind's wheels turned.

“That's what you were talking about! When I dragged you to Tesco's after I cleaned out the fridge and you were complaining about the young women on the street and their state of dress, that's what you were talking about when you said 'so am I'.”

“Yes.”

John sat there looking dumbly at Sherlock for a few moments, with Sherlock looking back at him, a small smile upturning the corners of his mouth, and then the kettle whistled. Turning towards the kitchen, Sherlock missed John's look of incredulity.

Then Sherlock's phone rang.

“Ah, Lestrade, got a case for me? Please don't tell me it involves two grown adults fighting like children over daddy's inheritance that he didn't tell them about.”

Pushing the uncovered declaration of love to the side, (love? Sherlock? Married to his work 'feelings get in the way' Sherlock?) John hit post on the post he was writing, with a promise that he would be back to finish it off later, if he could remember what he had been typing about when they got back. He hurriedly drunk the rest of his coffee and rinsed the cup, setting it on the draining board, and was halfway into his coat by the time Sherlock hung up.

The look of incredulity came back when Sherlock turned off the kettle and grabbed his coat, putting it on and starting to button it up.

“Are you going to wear that to the crime scene?”

“Yes.”

“It says 'I'm in love with my blogger'. Everyone's going to know you're in love with me!”

“Everyone thought we were together as soon as we rented this place. Now we are.”

“It's a dress!”

“Cross dressers wear them.”

***

At the crime scene, Sherlock fires questions at Lestrade, examining the victim from every angle (victim who was surprised, probably not actually part of what got him shot, Sherlock has somehow deduced that from the way the hair is lying). John watches as he swirls around the crime scene, telling Anderson to shut up and coming up with thoughts that are right though no one else can figure out the connecting points.

John is also watching Sherlock's neck, because Sherlock does have his scarf and coat on, but John is still waiting for the one back strap that divides into the two for the shoulders of the dress to be seen. This could definitely happen if Sherlock loosened his scarf...John's eyes are shoved to Sherlock's hands, which had strayed to the middle of his coat as if he was about to unbutton it and pull the edges apart to reveal to the whole crime scene what he was wearing underneath.

Their eyes met and Sherlock smirked, moving his hands to his pockets and giving the last bit of deduction to Lestrade.

John had asked Sherlock some questions on the way to the crime scene, such as, why not just wear his normal white shirt under the dress, and won't everyone wonder why his coat was buttoned instead of just pulled together like normal? Sherlock's reply had been that the dress had snagged on the buttons when he was putting it on, hence the skivvy, and that no one would notice because no one ever noticed. That hadn't done anything to stop John from thinking of the multitude of ways that Donovan and Anderson would find to remark and what to remark on, and how he could maybe escape without no one knowing.

Now though they were leaving, with John hurrying Sherlock as fast as he could without it looking suspicious to Lestrade and the others, and Sherlock dawdling, happy to watch John try to hurry him along.

**Author's Note:**

> As atlinmerick posted on this fic when I first posted it to my LJ: 'You have to finish this. And by finish this I mean _John has to take that dress off him._ If you know what I'm saying.'
> 
> I haven't got around to writing that story unfortunately :( but I will finish it!
> 
> And no S/J love yet, but next one, ooo yes.


End file.
